All Thanks to the Firewhiskey
by Renica Swavely
Summary: The night before graduation, Hermione Granger drinks too much firewhiskey and loses a few things such as her morals, perspective,...and her underwear! When she wakes up sober, she's in Malfoy's bed. AU.
1. One, Two, Three, Floor!

**_All Thanks to the Firewhiskey_**

_Neveada Sierriana_

**A/N: **I do not own any of these characters. I am just using J.K. Rowling's people as a jump start to my own fanfic. Thanks and Enjoy!

**Chapter One: 1 Firewhiskey, 2 Firewhiskey, 3 Firewhiskey…Floor!**

Hogwarts was buzzing. Another year had come and gone. This year's graduation would be no different then years past, except this year belonged to the famous Harry Potter. While the entire Gryffindor tower celebrated the end of finals, the end of Potions, and the end of Filch's late night escapades, one girl sat off to the side of the festivities, pondering on what the future would hold.

Hermione Granger, never one to take risks, had been named Valedictorian of her class. With graduation tomorrow, she was more interested in reviewing her speech, then joining the boys with their drinking games. As it was, she was genuinely curious about the effects of the firewhiskey. She was tempted to try a glass, but thought better of it. She had her address to prepare for.

Turning back towards the fireplace, she opened up her scroll. _"…It has been my honor to be educated here by some of the finest teachers the wizarding world has to offer. If it hadn't been for professors like McGonagall, Flickwit, and Snape, I am sure my experience here would not have changed me into the person I am today. I am sure you feel the same..." _Hermione stopped reading, and sighed closing her eyes. It was horrible, a complete waste of ink and time.

Glancing over her shoulder at the scene of her peers, she wished she hadn't spent seven years of her life distancing herself from everyone. Here she was eighteen years old, valedictorian, and with the same handful of friends she had had since first year. That didn't show much growth. She looked at Ginny and Harry, happy and joyous. She caught a look at Ron, who was shyly spying on Luna Lovegood. Hermione had to stifle a giggle. Luna and Ron, who would have thought? Off to Ron's left sat Seamus with Lavender; they seemed to be too busy with one another to take notice of anything else. Neville was talking to a 5th year with very pretty ringlets of brown hair. Everyone had someone and she had…..her scroll.

Suddenly, all she could think of was the firewhiskey. Dropping her speech to the floor, she hurried over to where Dean Thomas was handing out the drinks.

"Hey Hermione!" he smiled.

"Givemeadrink," she blurted out.

Dean looked confused. Had he just heard the Head Girl right? She wanted a drink? "Pardon?"

"Give me a bloody drink!"

"Right away."

Dean stared at her like she was a mad woman, but Hermione hardly cared at this point. She tossed back her head as she had seen others and let the warm liquid run down her throat. The drink raced through her, burning as it went. She dropped her glass and coughed. Dean came around, patting her on her back.

"Well done old girl. Didn't think you had it in you," he grinned, handing her another glass. "Here, the second one goes down easier."

Hermione looked at the glass and smiled.

The liquid tasted sweet as she sipped it slowly. Dean was right; this one did go down easier. Before she knew it, the glass was empty. She asked for another, and then headed over to join the boys.

* * *

**Two Hours Later...**

"Do you think she'll be alright?"Ron asked, as he and Harry carried an unconcious Hermione to her dormitory.

"She might have a headache in the morning, but I think the worst of it is over," the Boy-Who-Lived replied.

Ron scratched the back of his neck nervously. "I hope the Fat Lady doesn't take what she said too seriously. I mean, Mione was pretty out of it."

"I'm fairly positive that Hermione won't be joining us in the common room any time soon, Ron. The Fat Lady does not like criticism when it is in reference to her singing."

"Yeah, but Mione was just telling her what everyone else thinks."

"True," Harry nodded as they approached the Head's dorm. "But she also said there was a reason for being called the Fat Lady."

Ron's face broke into a wide grin. "Oh right, forgot about that one."

"Here, help me set her down," Harry instructed. Carefully, the boys laid Hermione against the wall by the Head's tapestry. "Mione," Harry tapped her cheek. "Hey, Hermione, wake up." Slowly, a pair of hazel eyes blinked open.

"Higuys," she slurred dreamily. "Whatchadoing?"

"It's time for bed," Harry said gently. "We brought you back to your room. Are you feeling alright to go in and get into bed?"

"Sure," she grinned, patting Harry's head. "No problem, dude." Ron supressed a chuckle. "I'll just be getting up then." It took several attempts before Hermione was on her feet, but once she was, the boys muttered the password and she stumbled on inside.

"Are you sure she'll be ok?" Ron asked, glancing at the closed entrance. "Maybe we should have left her with Ginny."

"She'll be fine Ron," Harry responded. "What's the worse that could happen?"

* * *

Draco Malfoy yawned and stretched his arms over his head. Four a.m. was an ungodful hour to be getting in, but it had been worth it. Blaise Zabini truly was a brilliant wizard. Who else would have thought to stick Mrs. Norris to the ceiling of Filch's office with Never-Ever-Coming-Off-Glue, courtesy of the Weasley twins. Draco may not have liked the redheads, but their products were good for a laugh, especially when that laugh came from Filch doing a hysterical jig outside his office. A grin fell across Draco face as he entered the Head chambers. It had been worth losing 200 house points to see that man dance. 

The common room was empty. Draco figured Granger had gone to bed hours ago, not that it mattered. The know-it-all girl was hardly ever in their room. She was normally up in Gryffindor tower or at the library. Despite his feelings of disgust for her, he had found this past year tolerable. No matter. It was all over now. He would inherit the last of the Malfoy fortune, run the family business, which was still a secret to him, and marry some rich Pureblood wench. That was his destiny. Rolling his eyes as he thought of it, he entered his private chambers.

Moonlight was pooling in from the north window. Draco pulled his shirt over his head, discarding it on a chair seated in the corner of the room. Soon his trousers and socks joined them. Left in his emerald silk boxers, he took one more long stretch before heading over to his bed. The large canopy bed was adorned with silver and green furnishings, complete with several layers of covers and dozens of pillows in all shapes and sizes. However, on this night, there was something else on his bed. The body of a woman laid under the first layer of sheets.

But it wasn't just any woman.

It was Hermione Granger.

And she was completely naked.


	2. The Morning After

**Chapter Two: The Morning After**

The first thing Draco Malfoy thought when he saw the Head Girl was: _I've hit the jackpot_. There was no better scandal than a naked Gryffindor in enemy territory. A sly grin grew across his face as he pictured the expression on Scarhead's face when the news reached him. Finally, Draco would have something over Potter, something the Boy-Who-Lived could not ignore. But just as all the fantasies of success came about, Granger rolled over.

Moonlight from the northwest corner of the room pooled in around her, giving her bare skin in a mystica glow. Her face, framed by the elegant curls, was angled towards him. The soft rise and fall of her chest caught his eye, as he realized she had tangled herself in his sheets. For a moment, he considered her as more than a Mudblood. The way her mouth was turned into a slight smile, and the curve of her frame made him see her as the beautiful woman she was.

Reality came crashing back into focus when he blinked. Draco ran a hand through his hair. Had he really been thinking about _her_ that way? He shook his head, reasoning that he must be more tired than he had thought. Grabbing an afghan from a side chair, he headed out of the room to the common area. He'd sleep on the couch tonight. No reason to touch the Mudblood; he'd only taint himself.

As he settled down on the beige loveseat, he pictured Granger waking up in his chamber. What would she think when she opened her eyes? Would she remember crawling under his covers and...Draco paused. What was Granger doing in his bed? A new idea formed. What if Granger was trying to seduce him. What if she was trying to have one final fling before graduation? Smirking, he left the common area and re-entered his bedroom.

If Granger wanted to spend the night, let her spend the night.

* * *

Hermione Granger groaned as she felt the first rays of morning light hit her. Her head felt as if it were in a vice. She gritted her teeth against the pain and opened her eyes. The urge to vomit was cut short when she took in her surroundings. The first syllable of a curse got lost in her throat as realization dawned on her. She felt the blood drain from her face. All around there was silver and green. No burst of red or gold could be found, except on the floor. Hermione surpressed a wail as she noticed several articles of clothing on the floor, all of which belonged to her. Grasping the soft material of the bed sheets, she tied herself up in toga fashion before scurrying into the bathroom. 

She was in the Head Boy's room.

Hands gripping the sink, she leaned towards the mirror, inspecting herself. Everything appeared to be alright. There were no signs of assault, not that she could remember much of the night before. Frantic, she turned the faucet, allowing a stream of cold water to run down the drain. She cupped some with her hands, splashing it across her face. The coolness eased her headache slightly. She repeated the gesture several times before turning the faucet back. Her reflection looked pale and weary, not like the stubborn bookworm she was used to seeing. A sigh escaped her lips. Hermione gave herself one last critical glare, then exited the bathroom.

On the bed, completely unconcious (and unclothed) was the Head Boy. His bare chest showed above the next layer of sheets where his pale skin dipped under the dark material. Hermione scolded herself for starring, but her eyes remained on his sculpted muscels. No doubt they were a product of many hours on the Quidditch pitch. She leaned against the door frame watching him as he slept.

He looked peaceful, not like the annoying prat he normally was. His mouth wasn't twisted into an ugl smirk, nor where his eyebrows furrowed in a look of distaste. Instead, he appeared to be content in his slumber. She felt herself smiling, despite the circumstances. He actually looked quite attractive when he wasn't being a ferret boy.

Just as she was about to come closer, he woke up. Hermione held her breath waiting for him to make the first move. Malfoy yawned as he stretched his well-toned arms over his head. Then he spottered her in the archway.

"Morning," he grinned lazily.

Hermione felt a hot surge of anger erupt. "Morning!" she shouted. "That's all you have to say for yourself!" Malfoy gave her a knowing smile and ripped off he bedsheets. Immediately, the Head Girl buried her face in her hands, not expecting to see Malfoy junior. She heard him walking towards her and stumbled back a step. "Don't come any closer!"

Warm breath poured over her earlobe. "I was hoping for a repeat performance," he whispered while maintaining his proximity. A fluttering sensation worked up from Hermione's stomach to her throat, stopping her witty comeback. "Want to share a quick shower instead?" She quickly shook her head, keeping her hands firmly planted over her eyes. A hand slipped around her waist, pulling her up against him. She tried to swallow as she felt the rhythm of Malfoy's heart beating against her chest. "Why not?"

As she desperately devised a way to get free of this confrontation, Malfoy's other hand was plaing with her hair. He was working his way up her neck, playfully toying with her curly tendrils. Her skin was flushing. She cursed inwardly, as she pictured how she must look. She had never been so close to a man before, particularly a naked man. All her knowledge left her as she stood dumbfounded by the Head Boy's actions.

"Cat got your tongue?" he asked, dipping his head to her neck. Gently, he planted kisses along her collarbone. He continued to work his way down until he came to the bedsheet she had tied around herself. He pulled back, grinning. "You can't take a shower with this on." Instinctively, Hermione repositioned her hands to keep the sheet secure. The moment she did, she understood just how evil Draco Malfoy could be. There, standing right in front of her, in all his glory, was the Head Boy; he was completely naked.

"You disgusting little prat!" she hissed, moving to smack him.

He easily caught her wrist. Smirking, he replied, "That's not what you said last night."

Hermione felt the color rise in her cheeks. "I did **not** sleep with _you_."

Malfoy cocked an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The mischievioius glint in his eyes told her that he didn't believe she was. He released her wrist. "Now how about that shower, Granger?"

He did not wait for her reply. He waltzed into the stall and turned the water on. Hermione stood motionless for a period of minutes, too shocked to move. Since she had no memories to fall back on, there was only one reality to all this chaos. She had slept with Draco Malfoy, Slytherin bad boy, son of a Deatheater. Her mind tried to comprehend it, but the truth of the matter was harder to grasp than Ancient Runes homework. No knowing what else to do, she ran out of the room.

Seconds later, she was safe within her own chambers. She stood with her back against the door, trying in vain to control her breathing. What had happened last night? She vaguely recalled going to Gryffindor tower after dinner. She remembered reviewing her scrol and then talking to Dean Thomas. He had given her a firewhiskey and then...

Hermione vomitted. She had gotten drunk! Of all the things to do. She had been drunk and must have wandered right into Malfoy's room.

Retreating to the bathroom, she tried to remember something else, anything that could prove she had not had sex with the Head Boy. Nothing came. She retched into the toilet. How was she going to face Harry and Ron? How could she tell her best friends what she had done? Another wave of naseau hit. She bowed her head in submission. The contents of her stomach emptied as a new thought popped into her head. Harry and Ron weren't the only ones she had to worry about. They weren't even the worse.

What if she was pregnant?

Hermione sat back on the cold tile flooring. Malfoy's baby? She couldn't have a baby. What would she tell the Ministry? She had already accepted their job proposal for the Department of Mysteries. She couldn't start now and leave in nine months. And what about her parents? How was she to explain to them how she had decided to experiment with drinking and now was carrying the child of a Deatheater? How would Ricard and Anne handle the news of their perfect daughter having a one night stand with a wizard sworn to hate Muggleborns? Her head began to swim as she pictured the encounter.

She forced herself to crawl into the shower. One hard yank to the handle and the water came down upon her. It was warm and relaxed the tension in her back. She slowly allowed herself to rest against the marble walls. She knew contraceptive charms, as did Malfoy. She was fairly positive that either one of them would have performed one before they got...involved. The idea made her shiver. It caught her off guard when she thought of spending the night with Malfoy.

Willing herself to be strong, Hermione planned what she would do. If there was one thing she had to do it was to let Malfoy know he hadn't gotten to her. She couldn't lose her nerve. She had to remain strong to face her enem. If he knew he had power over her, the few remaining moments she had at Hogwarts would be disasterous. She had always thought her graduation day would be a monumental time when she would celebrate the end of school and the beginning of her independent life. Just because she had made a mistake the night before didn't mean she couldn't still have her day.

In a matter of minutes, she was clean and dressed, ready to enter the Great Hall for breakfast. As she walked through the corridors, she thought of all the valedictorians who had graduated before her. They were all strong women and men would wouldn't have let something this trivial hold them back. She belonged in this position. She had worked for seven years to recieve this honor. No one deserved it more than her. She fixed a smile on her face and entered the room. Everything appeared normal. Everyone was talking excietedly about another school year brought to a close. Content with the setting, she headed over to join the boys at the Gryffindor table.

That's when Hermione spotted someone occupying her seat: Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Draco wasn't suicidal; just unaware. He had known he had pushed Granger this morning with his seductive stunt. What he didn't know was just how far he had pushed her. As she walked over to the table, he seriously considered running. Not even Medusa could glare like the Head Girl. On the other hand, he found himself thinking she looked amazingly hot when she was pissed. So he took his chance and remained in his spot. 

"What in Godric's name are you doing here?" she snapped.

Draco recalled all of his Malfoy ettiquetteand turned away from her. He paused for dramatic effect. Then, when her breathing had gotten loud enough to wake the dead, "We need to talk," he replied simply.

"No, I"ll tell you what we have to do," Granger hissed, "we have to figure out where to hide your body because when I'm done hexing you-"

"Hermione," the Weasel butted in.

She silenced him with one look. Then she was back on Draco.

"I may look innocent, but I've read quite a few books on the Dark Arts and I'm sure I can find a hex that will-,"

"You know all this hostility is a result of you suppressed sexual desire for me. But I guess you already knew that, right? It would explain why you were in my bed last night."

That statement silenced the Head Girl. The Gryffindors seated near enough to hear his comment stopped pretending to ignore the confrontation and watched him. On the other sideof the table Scarhead and Weasel sat open mouthed in shock. Draco just smirked.

Until Granger's fist collided with his teeth.

The sound of her strike echoed through the Great Hall as if the chamber were empty. While he clutched his bleeding mouth, she stood before him breathing heavil. Footsteps could be heard racing towards them; the professors no doubt had seen the incident. Granger didn't budge. He gave her points for not leaving. She was one of the few Gryffindors who actually deserved the title "brave."

"Miss Granger, what on earth-," Professor McGonagell was the first to speak.

"Do you know what the punishment for physcially assaulting nother student is, Miss Granger?" Natuarlly, Snape was next to yell. Draco could almost see his grin. Snape had been dying to find a reason to penalize the Head Girl.

"He started it!" Weasel shouted, pointing at Draco.

Ignoring him, Snape spoke to the Headmaster. "She should be expelled, sir."

"What? No, she's Head Girl, Albus. The brightest witch we've had in over a century. Can't we overlook this?" McGonagell inserted, with a look of concern.

As the teachers tried to figure out what was to be done, Scarhead was holding Weasel back from using an Unforgivable curse and Draco was watching Granger. Her hazel eyes were glaring into him with pure hate. She appeared completely unaware that she was about to lose her status as valedictorian, a benefit that would shortly be bestowed on him. She took no notice of her friends, as they tried to determine if what he had said was ture. Despite the chaos going on around her, Hermione Granger was utterly focused on one thing; him.

The intensity in her gaze was something he was not prepared for. He had never seen one person so concentrated. It was hard to look back; almost like having a staring contest with the sun. She was harsh and cold looking, not the mystical goddess he had found slumbering in his bed the night before. Suddenly, he felt a stab of guilt. He realized his fun had jut cost her the life she had been planning, striving, and sacraficing for all seven years she had been here. He had taken her initiative, her patience, her strength and he had crushed it all in one instant.

He deserved to be hated.

"Miss Granger, will you please follow me," Dumbledore said, gently taking her by the arm.

She flinched at his touch, shocked by out of her silent competition. That was when Draco noticed the tears in her eyes. She was broken. She had fought him with all she had, but she had lost. He knew he should have been pleased, afterall, she was just a Mudblood. Everything in his being told him that he was living up to his father's expectations, Salazzar rest his soul, but Draco felt no pride. As he watched her be escorted from the room, he felt regret.

Slowly, he found his feet and made his way over to the Slytherin table. His fellow housemates clapped joyously for his efforts, but all he could hear was Granger's enraged voice. Droplets of blood decorated his empty breakfast plate. He did not bother to wipe them away. His appetite was gone.

"Draco, you should see the nurse," Pansy coaxed him, touching his arm.

He nodded and got up. Blindly, he walked up to the hospital wing. He didn't answer when Madam Pomfrey asked what had happened. When she gave him a vile looking liquid, he gulped it down all in one swallow, ignoring the bitter taste.

"You can leave now, Mr. Malfoy," the Medi-witch addressed him. Draco muttered a quick "thanks" and wandered out of the hospital. His first impulse told him to go back to his room, but the idea of being there sickened him.

Instead, he went to the onlly place where he could think: the Quidditch pitch.

* * *

Meanwhile, in the Headmaster's office, Hermioine was seated in front of Dumbledore's desk, surrounded by the staff of professors. She was staring at the floor, trying to wrap her mind aound everything that had happened thus far. She had told herself that punching Malfoy would only hurt her, but he had pushed her too far. She had not been able to resist the urge to hit him. Silently, she awaited to hear what judgement would be passed upon her.

"Miss Granger, you have done a great deal of service to this institution since you arrival," Dumbledore began. "You're grades have always been exceptionally high and you have never turned down a fellow student who needed assistance." Hermione groaned inwardly. Professor Dumbledore was building her up because the staff had reached a decision. She bit her bottom lip, knowing what the Headmaster was about to say. "However, your recent actions were, shall we say, less than noble. Though I see no reason to revoke your position as Head Girl since it's the end of the term, the majority of the faculty wish to see another student give the valedictorian speech at the ceremony this afternoon."

Tears pricked at the edges of her eyes. She started to breathe through her mouth, so the teachers wouldn't hear the sniffle in her nose.

"Of course, you will maintain beging valedictorian on our records and your permanent file," Dumbledore quickly added,"but during the ceremony, you will join your classmates in the stands."

"I understand," Hermione nodded, trying to hold back her tears until she had been dismissed.

"Miss Granger, please understand-"

"It's fine, Headmaster," she said, her voice breaking slightl. "I'm going to- um - I needed to finishing packing."

"Very well, Miss Granger. You are dismissed."

"Thank you," Hermione muttered, before running out the door.

Her vision blurred as she hurried through the empty hallways. She had no idea where she was headed. Her dorm was out of the question, as she was sure Malfoy was there ready to gloat. She knew ver well that he was next in line to be valedictorian. He'd be a prime canidate for the speech. Gryffindor tower would have been perfect, but she couldn't face her peers, not now, not after what had transpired in the Great Hall. She continued running, knowing she could find sanction in the library. When she reached the doors, her heart dropped.

It was closed.

Hermione sunk to the floor, holding her knees up against her chest. Everything was a mess. She felt completely overwhelmed. First she had gotten drunk. Then she had slept with her roommate. After that, she had smacked him in front of everyone. Her graduation priviledges had been taken and if all of that wasn't enough, she had no where to go.

The tears washed down her face. She couldn't even begin to think about how her parents would take the news. They were due to arrive an hour before the ceremony. How could she tell them that she would not be speaking? She clutched her kneecaps tighter. Disappointment rushed through her. She had invertently ruined everything. All of the times she had followed the rules, all of the moments she had passed up to be safe, all of it was a waste. In her final day at Hogwarts, she had compromised everything she had worked for.

And she had no one to blame for it but herself.


	3. Graduation

**Chapter 3: Graduation**

The sky was without a single cloud. Draco mounted his broom, soaring upwards, becoming only a blip on the horizon. As he increased his speed, the wind whipped playfully about him. His robes flapped noisily and his once perfectly placed hair broke free from the gel he had applied earlier that morning.

Meters above the stadium, he could see the whole of Hogwarts. Over time, the old castle had become a welcomed vacation from the dreary mansion he had grown up in. He'd miss it. Draco pulled the broom to a halt when he reached the middle of the pitch. He had come out here to clear his head. He had no time to worry about being nostalgic. Sentiments were for Mudblo-

His thoughts stopped as he pictured Granger's broken face. Perhaps there were some exceptions to the rule. Not everything his father had dictated to him was truth. In fact, as far as Draco could tell, Lucius had been full of shit.

Though Azkaban was not the appropriate place for Lucius, Draco had to admit that he had been slightly relieved when he had heard the sentence. Death would not have solved anything in the case of his father. Dying with his stubborn beliefs and loyalty to a Dark Lord who no longer existed, would have been going out in style for the wizard. Azkaban, though not the perfect solution, served to shame the Malfoy name. It was something that would eat away at Lucius long after he had expired.

Draco didn't hate his father. He just didn't understand why Lucius had been so power hungry when he knew he would always serve under another. It had been the most ironic thing Draco had ever witnessed. Furthermore, his father had been plotting to make sure Draco became the next Dark Lord. That plan was shot to hell the minute the Dark Lord had fallen. Draco would have been lying if he would have said he wasn't relieved when his archenemy killed Voldemort.

Not that he would admit that to anyone.

Springing the broom in motion once more, Draco swept past the Quidditch pitch and took a turn around the Forbbiden Forest. He recalled the first time he had entered the place. It had been in first year. He had been spying on Pothead and when he saw the Golden Trio leaving school grounds, it had been too easy to follow them. In the end, his deed had not gone over looked. Professor McGonagell, the stubborn-headed Gryffindor that she was, insisted that he had to serve detention with his peers because he had also been out of his dormitory. Draco had never been so humiliated.

The forest had brought back the first time he had seen Granger as something more than a Mudblood. In the woods, he had been paired up with Potter, but when he had run off upon hearing a noise, he had rejoined Weasel and Granger. The two had been trailing behind the large gameskeeper and he had instantly clung to the first thing he could grab, hoping they were not an illusion.

That item had been Granger's cloak. In that single moment, he had seen something in her eyes, a type of compassion for him, despite his cold exterior and the way he mocked her. There was a hint of sorrow in her eyes also, as if she pitied him. That had made him drop his hold. He wanted nothing of pity. He was a Malfoy. Malfoy's learned to stand on their own. They needed no one to assist them.

Still, that memory meant something to him now. It brought the guilt back. Granger had not done anything to him and here he was, stealing the only thing that she had ever truly worked for. He hung his head. What could he do? He rebelled against the ways of his father, but that didn't make him any less of a a Malfoy. It only proved he was stubborn. He could not give in to Granger the way any other person in his position would. If he was going to do this, he had to do it his way.

He landed and marched off towards the dormitory. He had to hurry if he was going to be able to write his speech in time for the ceremony. It was sure to be the most memorable thing he had ever done.

* * *

Hermione's eyes were still blood shot when she reetnered the Head's dormitory. She immediately went to her room. She did not want to wait and see if Malfoy had returned yet. She couldn't face him...not now, not ever. 

Once inside her own personal space, she collapsed into a heap on the floor. The bed was as unmade as it had been this morning and she made sure to keep her eyes away from it. The idea of being violated there, in a space that had been her home for so long, in a castle that had become more than just a place to live, but a place to grow; it was almost too much for her to take. She turned away from it all, staring into the corner. Her thoughts ran free, randomly skipping through the years she had lived at Hogwarts.

She pictured the day she had met Ron and Harry on the train. She saw herself being called the most impressive student in over a century by McGonagell. She felt the exhilaration of fighting the Dark Lord alongside her two best friends. She felt, saw, heard all the memories from days past. She recalled those moments when fear and unease were not in her vocabulary. She remembered not feeling weak or powerless in front of her demons. Now she was worthless, huddled in a corner, ripped down into nothing more than a one-night stand. It was the worst position she could have ever been placed in.

And of all the people to do it to her, Malfoy had to be the one.

She was disgusted with herself for allowing it to happen. Why had she had those drinks? Why had she come back to the dorm like that instead of staying up in Gryffindor tower like the rest of her peers? She shook her head. Too many mistakes in one night. It was her fault, true, but would sitting her clear the air of the past? No. She blinked away a new string of tears. She was Hermione Granger, Head Girl, and valedictorian. She was not just a one-night stand. She was not Malfoy's mistake. She was not just another witch. She was important. She had helped vanquish the Dark Lord. She had gotten a job with the Ministry of Magic.

She would not let this conquer her.

Malfoy may have the last laugh. Let him. If he truly wanted valedictorian so badly, let him have it. She had something more. She had the courage to fight back. She would stand at graduation aside of Harry and Ron and not be beaten by this man who had taken everything from her. She would not back down from her position as Head Girl. She would not yield.

Feeling much stronger than she had since she had woken up that morning, she rose to her feet. She began to finish packing. She wanted nothing left to do when she returned to the dorms. She was about to embark on the next road of her life. She needed no ties to the past. But even as she thought this, she realized how much she was going to miss Hogwarts. As she packed up the last of her robes and books, she looked around her room.

It was early afternoon and the brilliant beams of sunlight were streaming in from her west window. They danced playfully around her dresser where bottles of cream and perfume were situated. A few rays crossed her bed, ending dramatically on the floor by her feet. She thought of the day she had moved in.

_"This is all mine?" she asked Professor Dumbledore. _

_"Yes, Ms. Granger." _

_"There is so much room! I have no idea what I will do with it all." She said as she walked around, already planning where she was going to position all of her furniture. _

_"I am confident that you will figure out the best layout for yourself," he grinned, before leaving. _

_Hermione danced around the floor, amazed that she did not have to watch where she was going. She flopped down on her bed, giggling. It was the most girlish move she had made all summer. She thought of how wonderful the year was going to be. No Lavendar or Parvati to keep her up at night with talk of Hogwart's Hottest Boy. There would be no Ron and Harry constantly knocking on her door to ask her what she wrote down for Snape's latest Potion's essay. She grinned, feeling more at home than any year preceding this one. _

A sharp slam broke Hermione from her thoughts. She took a deep breath as she realized Malfoy had just returned. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to continue with her packing. Seeing him would only undo all her mental preparation. She had to remain calm and focus on her goal: to get through graduation as strong as she had been when she started out the year.

Before she knew it, the final hours had passed and there was a brief knock at her door. A familiar pair of voices rang through the thick wooden door. "Mione, it's us. Are you ready?"

"Don't worry about it, Mione." Ron said as the trio walked in the stadium together for the last time. "We're going to sit right by you. If that ferret tries anything I'll curse his fick-"

"Ron," Harry shook his head. "I don't think that will be necessary." He put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. "Mione, it's only for show. You have valedictorian on paper and in ten years, who will remember his speech anyway?" He gave her a hug.

Hermione nodded. "You're both right. Thanks guys." Even though she smiled at them both, she still felt a small pang of hurt when she realized how different this ceremony was going to be from how she had pictured it.

The three of them followed the procession inside. They passed the other students who had already taken their spots. The front row loomed before them, empty. Hermione kept her eyes from looking up at the stage where all the professors were seated and Malfoy. She followed quietly behind Harry, keeping her eyes on the grass. She barely even heard the Headmaster's direction to be seated.

"And now for the graduation speech, I present Mr. Draco Malfoy, Head Boy for this year." Professor Dumbledore waved for Draco to stand and then stepped aside.

Draco walked across the stage from where he had been seated, feeling a slight tremor in his legs. He cleared his throat, opened his scroll, and began to read. "Headmaster, professors, and the graduating class, I do not wish to speak to you today about all the things you will do after you leave here or reminisce with you about all the things we've done here our past seven years." He paused, searching the crowd for the girl who he was really speaking to. When he spotted Hermione, he stared at her, as if at any moment she would disappear. "Instead, I stand here before you to correct a wrong that was committed today; a wrong that ruined one person's life."

Hermione held her breath, watching him as intently as he was watching her.

"All of you know Hermione Granger. She is, without a doubt, the most intelligent person in this student body and probably," he chuckled, "the only one of us who won't admit it."

Hermione felt herself blush as Harry and Ron turned to look at her. However, she still found her eyes focusing on Malfoy.

"This morning, Hermione Granger woke up in my bed." There was a stir amongst the crowd, as well as the staff. "I tell you this for two reasons. One, Hermione Granger fell asleep in my bed thinking it was her own. She was up late last night practicing her valedictorian speech and was disorientated when she came back to the dormitory. The second reason I tell you this is because I lied to her when she woke up. I told her that she seduced me in the night. And because of this, it is me standing before you right now, instead of her. I would just like to convey to you all that I have no reason to be up here. And if the professors had any sense they woud allow Ms. Granger her proper place in this ceremony, which is where I am standing at this very moment. Thank you." Draco rolled up his scroll and sat back down.

Hermione nearly fell out of her chair.

An extremely flustered Professor McGonagell took the podium. "Well, um...thank you Mr. Malfoy," she stuttered. "We will now begin calling the names of our graduating stu-,"

"Excuse me, professor, but I do believe Hermione Granger should have the honors," Professor Dumbledore interrupted, motioning to Hermione.

The Head Girl was frozen in her chair. She couldn't feel her legs, let alone move them. Harry and Ron were saying something to her, but she couldn't hear them. All she could do was stare at Draco Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince. He had given it up. He had done what no Slytherin had ever done and submitted to a Gryffindor. In that single moment, she realized all the lines he had to have crossed in order to give her back what was rightfully hers. She was beyond shocked; she was paralyzed.

"Ms. Granger?" Professor McGonagell asked, expectantly.

Hermione was vaguely aware of Ron helping her walk up to the stage. She barely noticed as he picked her up to carry her up the steps. It wasn't until McGonagell was handing her the listing of her peers that she realized what was happening.

Amazingly, the first name came out of her mouth easily. "Abbott, Hannah." She started reciting all of her classmates as if she had practiced this a dozen times. "Finnegan, Seamus." The initial nerves died away as her happiness shown through. "Longbottom, Neville." She was unaware of the pair of grey eyes that watched her from the corner of the stage.

Draco Malfoy, always the villian, never the hero, felt something course through him as he saw Granger in her element. He knew he would never be as good as she was. He was not a people person. He was a loner, destined to live out a life of solitude and success. He'd be like his father, great and feared, but also alone and cold. Before she could reach his name, he rose from his seat, and depared from the stadium.

No one noticed his absence.


	4. From a Monster to a Hero

**Chapter 4: From a Monster to a Hero**

Hermione's nerves bounced back with force when she noticed the next name on her list. "Draco Malfoy." Her eyes searched the crowd for the one soul that had taught her she could be wrong. No one in the group seemed to care that he was gone. However, Hermione was not one to be ungrateful and despite the constant lack of respect from Malfoy over the past years, she could not forget what he had sacrificed for her moment before. "Draco Malfoy" There was no motion in the crowd, no one stood, and no one moved. Hermione felt oddly frightened. Something did not feel right about his absence. She called his name once more and when he did not stand, she turned to look over her shoulder at Professor McGonagell. Her mentor merely shrugged.

Clearing her throat, she continued on down the list, but her paranoia kept growing. She could feel everyone's eyes on her, watching her lips move and the blush in her cheeks explode. By the time she had reached Blaise Zabini, she was almost ready to leap off the stage to begin looking for the missing Malfoy. Instead, she held together her composure, and gracefully exited the pitch with the rest of the student body. However, while the rest of her classmates headed back up to the castle for the graduation feast, Hermione took a detour.

Though she didn't know Malfoy, she was positive that she knew where he'd be. She hurried down to the lake, watching where she stepped, so as not to fall and wind up tumbling into the water. The murky depths of the lake were not a place she wanted to visit again. Her first stay had been less than comfortable. Wind blew against her, causing her robes to billow about her form. Her hair fell lose from the bun she had spun it into earlier. The tendrils danced about her face, obstructing her view. But as she drew closer to the edge, she spotted a sole figure on the beach.

"Malfoy?" she called, but her voice was lost in the wind. She cupped her hands around her mouth and shouted once more. "MALFOY!"

This time he turned to face her. She stopped moving. Something inside had told her to come after him, but now that she was here, she had no idea about what to say. Telling him, "thank you" wasn't enough but anything more was just…She stared at him from where she stood, unsure of what to do next. He appeared to be perplexed about her presence and stared right back.

Hermione held her breath, thinking over what had happened in the last 24 hours. He had caused her pain, it was true. Few other people in this world had caused her such unhappiness, but today… Whether Harry and Ron would admit it or not, Draco Malfoy had given her something that no one else had been able to give. He had used what heart he had and allowed her to have her one last senior fling. As if that wasn't a big enough step towards redemption, he had addressed the entire student body to clear her name. No doubt some, like Lavender and Parvati, would still hold the idea of a naked Head Girl with the Head Boy forever in their minds, but the rest of the population knew the truth. That was what really matter, at least to Hermione.

But why had he done it? What had possessed him to change his tune now? They were less than 12 hours away from leaving this place and starting their new lives. What did it matter if he redeemed himself in her eyes if they were never going to see each other from this moment on? Why did it matter to him? And furthermore, why did it matter to her if he had been there to graduate or not? Didn't he owe her for all the times he had made her cry, made her life harder? Why did she feel the need to come after him?

She shook her head. _This is ridiculous_, she thought. She turned to go, but paused. There was still a pull, a need to speak with him one last time. Her curiosity was tugging at her. She had always been one to learn, now was hardly the time to pass up the opportunity to reach a better understanding of a Pureblood. Taking a deep breath, Hermione walked down to the beach.

Malfoy's gray storm eyes watched her as she approached. She didn't feel the hate and disgust she normally got from his gaze. Instead, she felt his fear, his desperation. She didn't completely understand it, but a part of her knew why he was here. He was not ready to leave Hogwarts. In some small way, she could connect with him. She was hesitant to leave as well. The connection made her confident enough to speak.

"Hello."

"Hello," he replied, simply.

She watched him, silent and unsure. The wind toyed with his bangs, causing them to dance about his eyes. It looked like it would be annoying. Her hair, much longer flapped around her face, but it was soft and merely tickled her. His hair, so neatly gelled came down in points. She assumed if one of the ends hit him, it would hurt. Instinctively, she reached out and gently pushed a strand away from his eyes.

The instant her skin came in contact with him, he flinched. Hermione withdrew her hand with a gasp, realizing what she had almost done. "I'm sorry," she muttered, staring at her feet. She could feel her cheeks deepen in color. Her mind was reeling as she stepped back from him. _Stupid, stupid, stupid_, she ridiculed herself internally. Why had she come here?

"Don't go," he caught her wrist. She glanced down, taking in the image of his hand on her skin. It was the first time he had touched her voluntarily without making a comment about her bloodline. He didn't let her go as she raised her eyes to look at his face.

"Stay," he said. She nodded and his grip slipped down to her hand. She shivered at the gentleness of his touch. He led her closer to the water's edge where an old tree lay on its side. He took a seat and motioned for her to do the same. Dropping her hand, he leaned back slightly and closed his eyes. Hermione watched him carefully, trying to understand this new man she saw before her. He was not the Malfoy had come to know, he was an entirely different person.

"You know, when I heard I was going to be coming here, my first thought was to make a new life for myself," he told her. "I figured being away from the mansion would grant me freedom. I thought I wouldn't have to worry about keeping up the Malfoy image, that people here wouldn't be shadows of their parents." He chuckled softly and shook his head. Hermione just listened, intently.

He looked over at her. "Guess you can tell that Hogwarts wasn't what I expected it to be. Despite my earliest intentions, I still became my father." His head dropped. "I'm just as ruthless and dangerous as he is. I'm the same monster."

"No," she snapped. "You are not Lucius Malfoy. He would never have let a Muggle-born take his position as valedictorian speaker." Malfoy laughed. "And he most definitely would not have cleared my name." Malfoy nodded in agreement. Hermione reached over to put her hand on his shoulder. His eyes met hers. "Your original intentions may have been lost, but you made the choice today to change. You sacrificed your reputation to do what you thought was right, regardless of the consequences. That isn't the tale of a monster; it's the tale of a hero."

Malfoy did not say anything this time. Hermione removed her hand, fearing she had over stepped her boundaries. She had never said anything like that to a Slytherin. Most of the time, encouraging words such as those were saved for Harry or one of the Weasleys. She had never expected to use them on Draco Malfoy. She waited for his response.

At first, nothing happened. The two sat, with only the sounds of the wind and the lapping water to interfere with the silence between them. Then, Malfoy stood up and began walking back to the castle. Hermione sat still, scared to follow him. She bite back her bottom lip. She didn't think her words could have disgraced him, but not everyone understood her way of thinking. Even Harry and Ron had a hard time following her thoughts sometimes. Yet, how could he think she was mocking him when she had come out here to make sure he was alright?

Suddenly, she become angry. How dare he make her come out here, feeling guilty about him missing his graduation and then leave her here without a resolution? Getting to her face, she ran after him. As she reached the castle grounds, someone grabbed her and pulled her aside.

"Hermione!" Ron shouted. "Where have you been?"

"What?" she stared at her two friends. The three of them were standing in an alcove outside the Great Hall. "Where did you two come from?"

"We were wondering the same thing about you," Harry commented, looking around the empty corridor. "What happened to you after the ceremony? McGonagall has been looking all over for you."

"I was…" she looked past them both, searching the Great Hall for a hint of platinum blonde hair. "I went for a walk," she told them sternly. "What is wrong with that?"

"You could have told us," Ron mumbled, looking sore.

Still gazing over their shoulders, she said, "I just wanted to have a few moments to myself. I am going to miss this place."

"This place or someone?" Harry asked, noticing where she was looking.

Hermione stared at her friend. "Listen, I needed some time alone, away from everyone, alright? I'm here now. Let's just get some dinner."

"Alright," Ron's face broke into a grin. He pushed through the others to head on in, but Harry's face was less enthused.

"Mione," he started, but she brushed past him, following Ron's lead. The last thing she wanted to do was try to explain to Harry why she was trying to locate his arch-nemesis. It wasn't good table talk.

She refrained from surveying the Slytherin table and took her regular seat in between Harry and Ron. All the décor on their side was the traditional gold and red. She was comforted to see it, even if it was the last time. She truly felt as though she was in her element. She was surrounded by her friends of seven years, eating the best food the elves had to offer, and being congratulated on her position at the Ministry of Magic. Her last night at Hogwarts was supposed to be like this.

However, her happiness was not complete. Some small part of her was still worried over the incident Malfoy. As she reached across Ron to grab a dinner roll, she stole a quick glance at the Slytherin table. Adorned with silver and emerald colored garbs, many of the students blended together in perfect unison. She was disappointed not to spot a singular person with piercing silver eyes or blonde hair. Quietly, she sliced her roll down the middle and applied a thin slab of butter.

"Mione, are you alright?" Ron asked through mouthfuls. "I thought you said you were starved."

She put on a fake smile for him. "I'm fine, Ron. Just pacing myself. I want to have a little of everything since this is my last dinner here." He nodded, understanding and gave her a thumbs up. On her right side, Harry merely gave her a look of disbelief, which she ignored. She did not want to start a fight with her best friend on their last evening at Hogwarts.

"May I have everyone's attention, please," the Headmaster announced from the front of the room. All eyes turned to him. "I would just like to address our recent graduates. This afternoon, we witness a rather extraordinary event in the form of understanding and compassion."

"I am sure you are all very well aware of the difficulties Ms. Granger and Mr. Malfoy have been going through since the start of this term. Being in Head positions and living together through this year proved to be a rather demanding task. Yet, I believe both have come out of this experience with new ideas regarding their former beliefs about the other."

"This afternoon, we saw Mr. Malfoy denounce his position as stand-in for valedictorian so he could give it over to Ms. Granger. I am sure that every student in this hall would have done the same," the Headmaster grinned, his eyes never leaving the Slytherin table, whose members were sulking. "That said, I would like to extent a warm thanks to Mr. Malfoy for crossing the borders of the Houses and allowing Ms. Granger to fulfill her valedictorian requirements."

The hall was reluctant to clap until some very persuasive looks from the faculty changed their minds. "Remind me why we are clapping for that prat again?" Ron leaned across Hermione to ask Harry. Harry gave a knowing glance at Hermione, who pretended not to notice either of them.

"Is Mr. Malfoy present?" Dumbledore asked, searching the crowd of students. Hermione willed herself to watch the Headmaster and not lend her own eyes to the hunt. "Mr. Malfoy?" Snape stood up, stalking over to his House table. Apparently no one knew where the Head Boy had disappeared to. "Well, it seems that someone is being rather modest," the Headmaster grinned. "Very well. Please continue your feast everyone."

As the students went back to eating, two people remained motionless. Hermione was frozen staring at her plate. Aside of her, Harry watched her face as she fought internally over what to do. Though the Boy-Who-Lived did not understand what had happened between his enemy and his best friend, he knew that Hermione would not care about someone who didn't deserve it. He waited to see if she would speak to him and when she didn't, he continued with his meal.

Shortly after dinner came to a close. Hermione made her way back to her dormitory. It was the last time she would have to utter her password, the final time she would sleep in her bed. As she stepped through the doorway, she caught the silhouette of someone sitting on the couch.

"Malfoy?"

"Who else would have the password, Granger?"

She stormed over, ready to punch him. "You! You big, obnoxious prat!"

Malfoy held his hands up. "Woah, Granger. Calm down."

"Where, the bloody hell, were you?" she cried.

A smirk appeared on his lips. "Why, miss me?"

Hermione's hand flew before she could restrain herself. He caught her hand before it made contact with his face. "Now Granger, we don't want a repeat of this morning's performance, do we?" he taunted. She moved to slap him with her opposite hand and he yanked her down towards him. Losing her balance, she landed in his lap. "Maybe we should repeat this morning," he grinned, taking in how close they were.

Blushing, the Head Girl tried to get off of him, but Malfoy wasn't allowing it. He was much stronger than he looked, a perk of being the Quidditch captain for so many years.

"Malfoy," her voice came out a weak plea. "Please, let me go." Malfoy disregarded her and reached his hand up to her face. "Malfoy," she struggled against him, but he continued working his fingers around her face and into her hair. "Malfoy, knock it off. You don't know what you are doing."

"Granger?"

"Yes?"

"Shut up."

He was so close now, she could feel his breath against her face. She knew what was going to happen and she was powerless to stop it. The odd thing was, she realized she didn't care. She could feel Malfoy's forehead pressing against hers and knew it was close. Anticipating, she closed her eyes.

KNOCK "Mione? Are you in there?" KNOCK, KNOCK

"It's Harry and Ron," Hermione whispered, eyes still closed.

"Sod them," Malfoy whispered back, running his thumb down her cheek. A shiver ran Hermione's spine and she leaned into his touch.

KNOCK, KNOCK "MIONE!" KNOCK, KNOCK

Hermione groaned and pulled away. "I better get that." Malfoy watched her stand up and walk over to the door. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

Opening the door, Hermione forced herself to smile. "Hi guys," she greeted her best friends.

"Hey, don't you want to join us up in Gryffindor tower?" Ron asked. "Everyone's wondering where you are."

"Um, actually Ron, I was going to-."

"Great!" Ron shouted, totally missing her hint. He grabbed her by the hand. "Let's go!"

"Er, Ron, Mione might be tired," Harry said, trying to make Ron understand.

"Nah, not our Hermione. Remember that night she stayed up with us, studying for our O.W.L.S.? We were up for 48 hours straight, but Mione, she hadn't been out of the library for a week!" Ron started to drag Hermione down the hall. "Come on. It's our last night. We need to celebrate."

"Um, just give me a second, Ron." Hermione pulled away from him. "I need to get my- um…my cloak. It's a bit drafty up there."

"Alright!"

She darted back inside her dorm, but the living room was empty. Malfoy's door was shut. She knocked, hoping he'd come out, but he didn't. "Malfoy," she called softly. "Malfoy." There was no answer. "Malfoy, I'm sorry. I didn't know they were coming. Can we please just talk?" Still no answer.

"Mione!"

"I'm coming," she called out to Ron.

"Malfoy, please talk to me."

Silence.

"MIONE!"

"Alright, Ron. I'm coming." She gave one last look at Malfoy's door and then she went out to meet her friends.


	5. Disappointments

**Disclaimer: **HP characters still belong to J.K. Rowling.

**Chapter 5: Disappointments**

The Gryffindor Tower had never been filled with so much gold and crimson before. Hermione was almost dizzy from the sight. Everyone was either in all gold, all red, or a compilation of the two. As Hermione entered the room, the noisy chatter of all her housemates turned to one loud cheer of praise. Ron and Harry teamed up and lifted her onto their shoulders to carry her into the common area. When they set her down, a flood of individuals came to surround her.

Hermione normally would have not wanted this amount of attention, but she knew that this was her last chance to see everyone in the same light she had seen them these last seven years. She spoke to more people in the first hour than she had in her entire career at Hogwarts. And as alone as she had felt the night before, she felt ten times more popular this evening.

"Glad you came?" Ron asked, handing her a firewhiskey.

"Yeah," Hermione smiled, eyeing the glass, cautiously.

"I know you downed a few last night," he grinned. "I thought maybe one for old time's sake wouldn't do you any harm."

"Thanks Ron," she gave him a quick hug, knowing his action was innocent enough.

She sipped the drink slowly, enjoying the flavor and the burn, instead of trying to drown away her problems. She was just about to say something to Ron when a pair of girls started over to her. Parvati and Lavendar came by, jumping up and down.

"Oh Hermione, tell us it's true that you slept with Draco Malfoy!" Lavendar cooed. "He's so sexy."

"Oh Godric! And his abs," Parvati flushed. "It must be from all those hours of Quidditch. I'd die to have a moment in his arms."

Hermione felt her cheeks burn as she thought of how she had done just that seconds before the boys had shown up.

"Look at her blush!"

"I told you it was true!"

"Mione did NOT sleep with Malfoy!" Ron growled.

"She did sleep with Malfoy!" Lavendar giggled, grabbing hold to Hermione's shoulder.

"You lucky thing, you! I'm so jealous."

"Really, I didn't," the Head Girl told them, plucking Lavendar's hand off of her.

"Then why are you blushing?"

"It's the firewhiskey," Hermione smiled. "Get's me every time."

The two girls seemed to be satisfied with that answer. Without their gossip, they ventured off to the next victim, leaving Hermione alone with Ron.

"Mione, you didn't really sleep with-."

"Ron," she snapped, cutting him off.

"Right, sorry," he nodded. "I'll just be getting another drink, then." He scurried away, his face matching his hair.

Hermione walked over to the fireplace. A large arm chair was free and she gladly took a seat in it. The warmth of the open flames added to the already rosy coloring of her cheeks. As much as she tried not to, her thoughts centered around a certain blonde haired gentleman. Draco Malfoy was a complete paradox. Just when she thought she had him figured out….She smiled to herself. He was perplexing, a perfect mystery to her. She loved it.

And that posed a problem.

She understood how close she had come to kissing him prior to this party. It scared her how easily she had fallen for him. It terrified her how easily she had let into his charm. It unnerved her how much she wanted to go back there right now and continue what they had started. She shivered with excitement.

Hermione had done very few things in her life that were considered "bad." She was the typical goody-too-shoes, except when it meant breaking school rules to help Harry and Ron. Those things were easily overlooked. However, Draco Malfoy was not something she could write off as "help save the world." No, he served a completely different purpose, one that was selfish instead of selfless. She cared for him and not as she cared for Ron and Harry.

Taking a deep swallow of her drink, she thought back to this morning when she had seen him nearly naked. That vision had been buried in the back of her mind throughout the entire day. She had not been willing to admit it this morning, but now, as she replayed that moment, she could honestly say that he had one nice body.

Something inside of her stirred as she thought of him. She had been attracted to men before, but never in this way. It was partially because she knew he was "forbidden." She had always had a thing for dangerous men. It was one of the reasons why Viktor Krum had appealed so much to her. He was everything she wasn't and he was a risk. The same thing was happening in regards to her feelings for Malfoy, only on a different scale. This time around, the appeal was larger.

This attraction was both thrilling and alarming. She had never been with anyone before. Viktor and her and been on a few dates, they had attended Yule Ball together, and they had shared a couple of kisses, but things had never gotten serious between them. Ron and her had had a kind of backwards relationship, but it had never gone anywhere. They had decided it was better for them both if they remained friends. So this game with Malfoy, it was totally new.

And she had no clue what to do.

* * *

Draco sat alone in his private chamber, thinking over his earlier actions. He had never cared for a girl enough to chase after her. Of all the girls he could be interested in now, why was Hermione Granger the one to steal his heart. He knocked over a stack of books as he recalled how she had left him in favor of her friends. "Bloody hell!" he yelled. He slammed his hands into the wall and then threw his potion's kit on the floor. 

They were from two different worlds. He was a Pureblood, destined to live a long, lonely life. She was the most intelligent witch in over a century, working for the Ministry. Even though she was a Muggle-born, she had managed to push through the stereotypes and make something for herself, while Draco was still the same person his father had been. He growled, tossing another pile of books on the ground. For the first time since that morning, he wished he hadn't kept her in his bed.

Dropping to the floor, he sat against the bathroom wall, contemplating what to do. He had wanted to kiss her from the moment she had come to the lake. Never before had such a drive of passion forced him to lose all ability to function as it had then. He had not been able to speak. He had only been able to stare at her. Each motion she had made was graceful and light, as if she was a goddess.

When she had his forehead, he had nearly leapt from shock. He had never thought she would willingly touch him, especially after all his crude comments about her birthright. Her skin had felt so warm, he had flinched. Immediately, he had regretted the movement. She had turned to leave and he had had to grab her. His reflexes were superior to most from his time on the Quidditch pitch, so grasping a hold of her wrist was not a problem. Keeping her of her own free will had been a different story.

He had asked her to stay and she had complied with little hesitation. At first, he had considered kissing her right there, but he realized she had come in search of him for answers. Draco planned on giving her just that. They had sat down and he had explained what had made him change in the final hours of his Hogwarts period. She had surprised him by saying he was a hero.

The word had done more than she had anticipated. Once it was out of her mouth, he had had an overwhelming sense of compassion for her. If he had followed his instincts, he would have not stopped at kissing her. For that reason, he had opted to leave. He knew that she had come after him, but he had kept away. His intentions had all been good and he had followed them well, until she had come back. Then everything he had worked so hard to maintain fell apart. All he had wanted by then was to have her, every inch of her, to feel her skin against his, and to know what love truly was.

Despite his reputation, Draco had never once taken a woman to his bed for anything more than a little fun. By every definition of the word, he was still a virgin. Pansy had been the real reason he had become so "popular." When he had refused to have sex with her, she had told everyone he was the best shag ever. In her mind, it was a way to get back at him. The plan backfired when every female in the student body expressed interest in the Head Boy. Well, everyone except the Granger girl.

Leaning his head back against the cold stone wall, he tried to picture Hermione up in Gryffindor tower. He could see her standing with her two best friends, laughing at something the Weasley chick said and having a great time. She was better off up there.

What future did she have with him? He wasn't boyfriend material. He was more interested in setting a new record on his broomstick than taking care of a girl. No, she needed someone who would support her, be there for her when something good happened to cheer her on. He wasn't that type of guy. He was too focused on himself, too involved with his own things to care about another. No, she was lucky to have gotten away when she did.

He had put very little thought into what would happen after he kissed her. Surely, their relationship would change, but what did that entail? Were they the type to get together for some fooling around or would she want something more? Draco was certain she would want a full-blown relationship. She was the type of girl that expected flowers, candies, dates, and other things that she deserved.

And what would her friends think? Hermione Granger, smartest witch ever born (and a muggle-born) dating Slytherin Bad-Boy Draco Malfoy? That would never pass. They would ridicule her about everything he did or didn't do. They would be on her until she either broke it off with him or drove him mad enough to break it off with her. He could just picture them trying to spend a day in Diagon Alley. What a mess!

If that wasn't bad enough, he thought about their family situations. If things were to get serious, and he wanted to marry the girl, what would their future be like? His father was a raving-mad Death Eater and his mother….he shook his head. That was not the place to go right now. He was fairly certain that Hermione's parents wouldn't welcome him with open arms either. They were Muggles, completely unaware of how easily he could hex them. And they were sure to know of the things he had done to their daughter prior to his affections.

It was hopeless.

* * *

At midnight, Hermione had had enough. The crowds of people were getting rather obnoxious. Many of her peers had gotten pissed and dealing with them was proving to be tedious. When the clock chimed the new day, she managed to sneak through the horde and exit through the portrait hole. Luckily, the Fat Lady was asleep. Harry and Ron had had to beg her to let the Head Girl in. Apparently, she had made some rude comments about the painting the previous night when she had been intoxicated. 

The corridors were all empty, even the ghosts were out celebrating the end to another year. Her walk back was quiet. It gave her time to think. She had been contemplating about what to do with Malfoy. No answer was any better than that next. She knew what she wanted, and she knew what she should want. They were different, which made her decision hard. Was she to be selfish and pursue what she wanted, or should she take the safe road, as she almost always had?

She had been assessing different situations over and over again in her head. She kept trying to picture the outcomes to her different scenarios, but they were all so different and could go several different ways. It frustrated her more than anything. For once, she actually wished she had stuck with Professor Trelawney's class. If there had been any sign of what awaited her when she returned to her dorm, she would have felt more confident about walking in.

When she reached the door, she stood still. She wasn't prepared to go in without a plan for action. She had always been a planner by heart and now was hardly an exception. So, she made her choice. Announcing her password, "Hogwarts: A History," she stepped over the threshold and into the common area of the dormitory. Not surprising, Malfoy was nowhere in sight. The Head Girl proceeded over to his bedroom door and gave a sharp knock.

From somewhere in the room, she heard him mutter a curse. "Malfoy, it's me," she called, hoping he'd open the door. Things were tossed about and she could hear him mumbling to himself. "Are you alright?"

The door swung open and he stood in the archway. "I'm fine," he grumbled.

Hermione disregarded his angry tone and stepped forward. "I was wondering if we could talk." Malfoy watched her cautiously as she took another step closer. "Can I come in?"

"Whatever," he grunted, moving aside to let her in.

"Thank you."

Passing him, she surveyed the room. It was a mess. Objects were scattered all over the floor. She noticed some were shoved under the bed, but many were still lying about. There were books, glass, and even some potion ingredients. "What happened here?" she asked. "Are you alright?"

She bent down to pick up the pieces of glass. Malfoy came over and sunk down to his knees to do the same. "What did you want to talk about, Granger?" he questioned. She stared over at him from where she was kneeled on the stone floor.

"I wanted to talk about what happened earlier before I…before I left."

"No need to apologize. You're better off hanging with them anyway," he shrugged.

"No, that's not what I wanted to talk about," she stated firmly. Malfoy stopped collecting pieces of glass to stare back at her. "I wanted to talk to you about us." His face dropped.

"There is no us, Granger," he snapped.

"There could be."

"No," he growled. "It's better if you stay with your kind and I stay with mine. You're a fool to think otherwise."

"What?" she sputtered, staring at him in disbelief.

"Do you know what my kind of people do? Do you? Death Eaters don't just kill Muggles, they torture and rape them! Could you live with yourself knowing that your boyfriend is destined for that kind of life?"

"You aren't a Death Eater," she insisted.

"No, not yet. But it's just a matter of time before-,"

"Draco Malfoy," she hissed, bringing his rebuttal to a halt. "I thought you had changed, but now I see the same coward I knew before today." She was shaking. His hand twitched at his side and she knew he was fighting himself over what to do. It only made things harder. She stood up slowly, praying her feet would hold her. Biting down on her bottom lip, she waited for him to say something. When he didn't, she gave him a curt nod and walked to the door. "I came back here looking for someone that no longer exists. I thought "sod it all, I like him" but you aren't that man anymore. I'm disappointed in you." And with that said, she exited the chamber.

Hermione crossed the living room to her chamber. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, but she willed herself not to cry until she reached her room. As soon as the door shut, she ran to her bed. She had seen Lavendar cry over boys before. She had always thought of it as overdramatic and useless, but now she understood the pain. Her anger at herself made things worse. She felt stupid for believing there was something in Draco Malfoy worth risking her dignity for.

Lying on her stomach, she ran her hands over the cool fabric of her bed. Her sheets, dramatically different in color from those that she had slept in the night before, seemed foreign to her now. She felt out of place. No longer did her room bring her comfort. No longer was she pleased to have a spot to be alone. She longed to be in by his side. It was sickening how quickly she had taken a liking to him. All he had done was give her something that already belonged to her. She shook her head, another round of tears flowing out of her eyes.

There was nothing to think about anymore. School was over. She had the job she had always craved. But she wasn't happy. Not anymore. Things have been so complicated this afternoon when she had actually been considering a future with him. Now things were simple. There was no them, there never would be. Her mind wouldn't shut off. All she could hear and feel was the disdain in his voice and the disappointment in her heart. He had failed to understand how their relationship could have taken flight. She felt jilted and violated. There had been things she had said to him in such a way...the tone she had used...she had never spoken to anyone like that before. And thought she knew nothing would change between them, a part of her still hoped.

That killed her. She could not comprehend why she was still thinking about him. It was Draco Malfoy, the prince of Slytherin, the wanker who had called her a Mudblood more times than she could remember. This was the brainless twit that had gotten Buckbeak killed. This was the same slimeball who had been turned into a ferret, with good reason. How could she love him? How could she have given her heart to someone like him when there were so many others out there that were better suited to be with her? She lifted her head up from her arms, wiping away the stream of tears from her cheeks. She looked to the window, staring up into the night sky, as if waiting for it to give her the answers she sought. No response came, and she collapsed again into her pillows.

Softly, she began to cry to herself. She had never felt such a strong physical attraction to anothe person before. Sure there had been Viktor, but he was more of an experiment than an actual boyfriend. She almost smiled as she thought of how awkward it had been with Ron. They had always had some kind of chemistry going on between them, but when they had actually gotten together, it was more of an explosion than a cure. No, there had never been another time when she had felt like this and it made it all that much harder.

She pulled herself up and forced herself to stumble into the bathroom. She avoided looking at her face as she leaned over the basin to wash away evidence of her break down. Scrubbing vigorously at her skin, she felt new tears break free. Hermione splashed herself with cold water. The tears disappeared as she wiped her face with a warm towel. Dropping it to the counter, she placed her hands on the edge of the sink and stared at herself. She looked as she had always looked, but her eyes held pain. She would be ignorant to think it would be easy to get past this within the next twelve hours. Accepting that she had a night to go until she boarded the Hogwarts Express, she returned to her bed, ready for sleep to obstruct her version of reality.

* * *

Draco woke up at 5am, rolled over to look at his clock, cursed, and rolled back over. He had been waking up every hour on the hour since he had collapsed at one. His mind wouldn't let him sleep. He was playing the scene of Hermione telling him they could have a future over and over again. The more times he watched, the more eager he was to go knock on her door. But he forced himself to remain in his quarters. 

Never before had one girl taken up so much of his energy. He had always expected that one day he would find someone that he could tolerate and would marry her. He had never seen "love" in his cards and he had certainly never expected Hermione Granger. Of all the witches in the world, he had had to fall for one that he couldn't have. And it wasn't even that she despised him. If she hated him, things would be easier. He could tell himself he was just chasing her to agitate her, but his constant need to be with her...it was a serious matter.

As a Malfoy, he had been instructed to never back down from a challenge. Though he was fairly positive his father had never foreseen a Muggle-born being Draco's problem, it was just that. Whether it be his upbrining as a young child, or his own free will, Draco didn't want to let this chance slip by him. Of all the things in the world, magic and science could not harness the power of love. As pathetic as it was for him to admit, he did believe there was a certain magic quaility to the gooey-eye emotion that flittered through the halls of Hogwarts. On occasion he even spotted Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagell sharing a look of pure compassion. And he wanted that. It was a selfish want, but he still craved it...and it wanted it with Hermione.

Almost instantly, he rose from his bed, but then stopped. She was sleeping now. She would not take kindly to him waking her up. So he once again harnessed his emotions and laid down. Sighing, he closed his eyes and tried to stop thinking. When he opened his eyes moments later, the clock read 9:35 am. Draco stared at it for several long seconds before leaping out of his bed. He had overslept! The Hogwart's Express was suppose to leave at 10 am sharp. Racing around his room, he attempted to get dressed and pack the rest of his belongings simultaneously. Cursing every name he had ever learned to appreciate, he darted from his room down to the Great Hall. He hoped there would still be some breakfast awaiting him.

As he approached the chamber, he realized the doors were closed. "NO," he shouted, kicking the locked doors. He glanced down at his watch. It read 9:50. Cursing once again, he summoned his broom. It appeared at the nearest window. Unlatching the lock, he reached out for the broom handle. The Firebolt felt warm under his touch. He grasped the wood hard and pulled himself out of the corridor and out into the warm summer's air. As he mounted the broom, he realized what little time he had to make things right with Hermione. Kicking his feet back, he flew towards the station, praying he wouldn't be late.


	6. Girl Behind the Facade

**Chapter 6: The Girl Behind the Facade**

Hermione sat with her head against the window. The Hogwarts Express sped across the countryside for the last time. She sighed and closed her eyes. This morning she had woken up knowing all too well that it was over. And worse than knowing she'd never have another reason to step into the school was the fact that she'd never again have an excuse to see a certain Slytherin. How could she? After yesterday, there was no more reason for her to ever speak with him again. The was the thing she regretted the most.

"Too much firewhiskey?" Harry teased, as he sunk into the seat next to her.

"Must be," she lied, opening her eyes to stare out at the passing scenery.

"Mione," he started, and for a moment she suspected that he knew what was going through her head. But then he simply said, "I'm really proud of you."

His words were meant to be loving, but from the moment they left his lips she felt pained. It seemed so pointless now. All the studying, all the house points, all the SPEW stuff... _Sod all of it_, she thought. Because now that it was over the only thing she could think about was all the things she had never done, the things she had regarded as silly and childish. She wasn't proud of herself. Far from it, she was disappointed that she had watched her entire career at Hogwarts go by without truly embracing it. Sure, there had been the battles against the Dark Lord and the occasional use of the Invisibility cloak, but she had never really lived, not like the boys.

And now it was too late.

Ron entered the cabin, munching away at a chocolate frog. "Hey," he mumbled between chews. Harry gave him a nod, but Hermione gave no response. She was staring at her reflection in the window. She saw a girl who was pretty, not gorgeous. She saw a girl who was intelligent beyond compare, a girl who had landed a very good job working for the Ministry. She saw a girl who had sacrificed her adolescent days in pursuit of growing up too fast. A tear ran down her cheek as she realized her biggest mistake wasn't overdosing on firewhiskey and almost sleeping with Draco Malloy. The real mistake was not doing something like that more often over the years. Now she was a grown-up. Now she had to follow the rules all the time. There was no room for error. If she made a mistake now, it wouldn't be detention with Snape for one night. It would be the loss of her job.

Harry's hand fell on her shoulder blade. "Mione," he said softly. She turned to look at him.

"Why did I want to be valedictorian?"

Startled by her words, he took a moment to reply. "You've always been the brains, Hermione. You love books. You love to learn. You always wanted to be valedictorian and you did. You earned it. No one slaved like you. No one spent so many hours in the library every day learning the seventy ways to use toad's wart." He paused to chuckle to himself. "You were meant to be valedictorian."

As she processed what he said, she nodded to herself. After all these years together, even her best friend only knew her as "the smart girl." No one knew her as anything but the bookworm. What made it truly terrifying was that she feared she didn't know herself. True, she did love books and she loved learning, but that was not all she wanted in life. She wanted to travel. She wanted to talk with people, both muggles and wizard-folk. She wanted to find a way to connect the two without disrupting their natural way. She had all these visions, all this goals. She had thought that she needed to be the best so she could make them a reality. Now, it seemed ridiculous. No degree was going to prepare her for travel. No amount of reading about communication was going to make her a whiz at talking with others.

"Are you alright?" Harry tried to hold her hand, but she pulled away.

Suddenly, she felt anxious. Realizing that everything she had been working for was worthless shocked her. She stood up and stared around the cabin. It felt incredibly small. She felt as if she were suffocating. The trees and hills outside were flying by so rapidly that she was sure she was dreaming. She gripped the edge of the door as she stumbled to get out in the hall. She was conscious of both Harry and Ron urging her to sit down, but she ignored them. Hermione felt her legs move before she fully understood what was happening. She was running. The other cabin doors started to blend together. She forgot about Harry and Ron. She forgot about the Ministry. She forgot about being valedictorian. She took all her accomplishments and threw them away with each step she took.

She got to the end of their car. Before she could stop herself, she had her wand out and was unlocking the door. She leapt from the doorway to the platform of the next car, not hesitating to spell open its door as well. The anxious feeling was consuming her. In the back of her mind, she was vaguely aware that she was having some sort of break down. She knew her behavior was unacceptable but an even bigger part of her didn't care. She ran full speed through the car's corridors, not slowing when someone shouted her name. However, when she reached the end of that car, there was no more train.

The breath she had been holding left her as she watched the tracks disappearing in the distance. There was no where else to go. Frantically, she checked behind her. Harry and Ron were coming up the hall. She felt her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She kicked the door shut and performed a quick locking charm. It wouldn't hold them off for long. She wasn't sure where all of this was coming from. She wasn't angry with her friends. She loved them, but she knew if they made her go back in that cabin she'd die. It was an irrational thought. By all means, she should have been in St. Mungo's if she believed something as ridiculous as that. But she still stood there, outside on the ramp. The Express jiggled a bit as the train started going over an old bridge. Hermione teetered on the edge of the ramp and noticed the water below.

She made her choice.

* * *

Draco had been flying for over ten minutes. He expected to be coming up on the train, but still nothing was on the horizon. He pushed the broom to go even faster. His cheeks stung from the force of the wind, but he kept pushing himself. He could hear his cloak ripping, but he ignored it. He could buy a new one later. The whole time he had been cursing. There were two reasons really. One was that he had dismissed Hermione and now she was gone. The other was the fact that his father was going to ultimately disown him when he learned his son had a thing for a Muggleborn. He almost laughed at the thought. It seemed so foreign. Who would ever expect a Malloy to feel anything?

Just as he was about to curse again, he saw a red dot. He dove lower. It was the train. He got closer until he could make out the windows. He wondered how Hermione would react when she saw him outside her cabin. He was sure Potty and Weasel wouldn't be pleased. He expected some very unpleasant sayings to come out of their mouths. In all honesty, he even expected Hermione to tell him to sod off. It didn't matter. He was here now. He was going to fix the mess he had made. He wasn't sure how, but he knew it was worth it to be with her again. Soon he was only about 200 yards behind the Express. He felt like cheering, inwardly of course. But his outburst would have to wait. Just as he got close, he saw her. She ran out onto the back platform. He momentarily considered waving. Then he saw her jump.

His heart plummeted deep into the recesses of his chest. He dove after her, ignoring the screams from her two friends as they managed to get out on the platform. He screamed her name, but the wind drowned it out. Draco positioned himself as far forward on his broom as possible, reaching out, but he missed her. She fell into the water and disappeared beneath the blue. He hovered above the spot for a moment, berating himself for not being quicker. Then, ripping off his top layers, he dove in after her.

The water was dark and murky. He couldn't see a thing. He felt around, but she was nowhere. He swam deeper, reaching out and feeling nothing. His heart was accelerating to a dangerous point and oxygen was running low, but he pushed further down. Somehow he found her. Grasping hold of her, he pulled her to his chest. They broke through the surface, both gasping for air. Hermione began coughing violently. Gently wrapping one arm around her, he began swimming for the shore. Draco had never fought so hard against anything as he did when he was dragging her across the water. They reached the beach in a few short minutes. He carried out of the water, trying to see if she had been hurt. Sitting her down gently on the sand, he stepped back to give her room.

Hermione continued coughing for several minutes, every now and then sputtering water all over her front. The Slytherin watched her carefully, trying to figure out how to proceed. There was no easy way of explaining how he felt about her. It would have been more favorable to do time with Gilderoy Lockhart. He didn't like admitting that he was the wrong party, though in this case he was more than aware of how difficult he had been. Hermione surprised him by speaking first.

"What are you doing here?"

"I came here for you."

"Why?"

"Hermione."

She ignored his answer. "Why did you do that?" she asked, gesturing to the lake. He assumed she meant rescuing her.

"You jumped off the bridge!" he nearly shouted. "Did you want me to leave you to die?"

"I would have been fine."

"You know, for being the most intelligent witch in over a centaury, you sure are stupid." Anger flared in her eyes and he was glad. It was the first spark of passion that he had seen in her eyes since bringing her up for air.

"You arrogant ass," she hissed.

"That's not what you said last night."

As soon as he had said it, he realized his mistake. Hermione stood up and stormed off towards the bridge. "Sod off, wanker!" she yelled over her shoulder.

Draco summoned his broom. He wasn't sure how good of an idea it was to follow a pissed off witch who knew how to hex him, but he was going to take a chance. He flew to her side. She pretended he wasn't there and kept walking. "Hermione." Nothing. "Hermione." Silence. "Hermione, for Salazzar's sake!"

"Don't you ever stop?" she snapped, breaking into a run. He realized he was going to have to make her listen to him. Pulling his broom up, he cut through the air until he was nearly upon her. Then, quickly, he reached down and grabbed her left arm. "Draco Malloy! Just what do you think you are doing?" she shrieked as he yanked her up into his lap. He didn't respond. He had heard that Hermione had a fear of flying, so he stayed close to the ground, but as for speed...he made no promises. He didn't want her trying to jump off again.

"Put me down!" she cried as they continued across the land. "Draco, let me go!" He did not relinquish his grip on her. He acted as if he couldn't hear her screaming right in his ear.

After the first mile, her voice had grown hoarse and she fell silent. After the tenth mile, her eyes were feeling heavy. By the twelfth mile, her head was resting against his chest. As Draco made the fifteenth mile, he found Hermione casually dozing against him. A smile crept on to his face and he brought the broom to a soft landing in the middle of a grassy plain. He let his broom drop to the ground as he dismounted, making sure to move Hermione as little as possible so as not to wake her.

He hadn't really had a plan on where to take her. Obvoiusly his place was inappropriate and Hogwarts would be closed now. Draco was not sure what he wanted in life, but he knew he wanted her to be with him. Ever since the morning she had punched him, he had felt a fiery passion within her. It was dark and dangerous, not at all the shy, quiet bookworm type she normally portrayed. He adored that part of her. It made him feel more human, like he wasn't destined to be entirely evil.

Sitting behind her, he positioned her so her head was lying in his lap. His fingers played absently with her hair, combing through gently. He felt an urge to touch her, to be in constant contact with her. It was a strange feeling to Draco. He had never been so drawn to another person before. It felt especially weird, considering the circumstances. Why now? he asked himself. After seven years, why did he now see what she was? He felt stupid for not noticing the passion before, for not understanding the girl behind the facade. The Slytherin bent forward, planting a light kiss on her forehead. He felt a shot of electricity run through him when his lips touched her skin. Hermione leaned into his touch, which delighted him. He sat back, his fingers unconciously winding into her soft tendrils once more.

He did not recall feeling sleepy or even closing his eyes, but at some point he must have. When he woke up, he was lying on his back, one arm tucked behind his head and the other wrapped around Hermione's waist as she laid across his chest. Knowing that at some point she must have woken up and decided to stay made him confident in what he wanted to ask her. Though he hated to disturb her, he began to sit up. The motion jostled her slightly and Hermione's eyes fluttered open. "Draco." She said his name in a whisper as if she was waking from a dream. It nearly made him mute.

"I can take you to the train station, if you'd like," he began, "but I did want to ask you something and if you'd let me explain afterwards, I think it will take some time. So the choice is yours. I can take you back so you can go home, or you could stay here and listen to what I have to say. I'm not going to fly you away again."

"Alright," she said. "Talk."

"Ever since that night I found you in my bed you've taken my life and completely altered it. At first I didn't realize just what was happening. I tried to deny, tried to tell myself that what I was feeling was physical attraction and nothing more...just a passing phase. But then you slapped me. I've never seen you so furious before. There was that time you punched me in third year, but," he shook his head. "This was different. The way you looked at me was crazy. I've never seen such passion in your eyes before, not even when you are in the library. When I woke up this morning and saw your empty room, it hit me. I realized how stupid I was last night and suddenly nothing else mattered. The Manor, my father, the Death Eaters...it's all rubbish. I want to be with you. I don't have plans. I don't know where we can go. I don't even know if we'd be safe. All I know is if I have to see you get on that train and leave again, I don't know what's going to happen to me."

Draco paused to take a breath. She had listened to his entire rant up until now with perfect eye contact. Now, she was intently focusing on her feet. He cleared his throat and continued. "I am asking you to forget about the Ministry and all the shit back at Hogwarts. I know you had plans for your life. I know this probably isn't on the list of things to accomplish before you are thirty, but I'm asking you, Hermione, to come away with me."

She sat very still as if battling out the answer inwardly. He tried to be patient as he waited for her to speak, but found himself pulling grass out of the ground in handfuls.

"I jumped off a bridge today," she stated evenly. "I felt overwhelmed on the train, like everything I had worked for meant nothing and then all I could do was run. I've never felt that way before." He didn't know how to reply, so he merely nodded. "I'm not proud of what I've done, Draco. I don't like who I am. I don't even know who I am."

"So what are you saying?" he asked.

She raised her eyes up from her hands to look at him. "I guess I'm saying yes."

"Yes?" he repeated, not believing it. It had to be a joke. She had only taken a moment or two to consider. Maybe she needed more time. "Are you sure?"

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and glared at him. "Draco Malfoy, were you serious about what you said?"

"Of course! Every word."

"So am I."

The Slytherin felt his heart skip. "Alright then," he sighed. "Let's go." He stood up and summoned his broom, fully aware of how close she was standing to him. He felt her lace her fingers through his own and smiled. The broom appeared. He mounted first, helping her to get seated in front of him. "Where should we go?" he asked her, saying the words close to her ear so he could kiss her neck while she decided.

"Mmm, how about Rome?"

"Too ancient," he said, before kissing her again.

"Paris?"

"Too crowded."

"St. Petersburg?"

"Too cold."

"Fine!" she sighed, exasperated. "I give up. You pick a place."

"Alright then. We are going to New York."

"America! Of all the places to pick, you want to go there?"

"Why not?" he chuckled, as the broom rose from the ground.

And for once Hermione let her inhabitions go to the wind. "Why not."


	7. Epilogue

**DISCLAIMER: I own nothing, but the idea for this story. Also, please be reminded that since the release of Book 7, this story is an AU!**

**Epilogue**

Hermione Granger stumbled through the front door of her Manhattan loft. Arms filled with groceries, she barely made it to the counter that separated her kitchen from her living room.

"Find every thing ok?" Draco stepped out into the living room, body still glistening from his shower. There was an emerald towel tied around his waist, but Hermione's imagination filled in the gaps. A whimsical smile appeared on her face. Her fiancée easily picked up on it.

Crossing the room, the Malfoy heir slipped an arm around his future wife. "How was your day?" he asked, burying his face in her hair.

"Fine," she replied, feigning control. "How was yours?"

"It's starting to look up," he grinned, placing his lips over hers. They shared a delicious kiss, filled with both passion and comfort.

She relaxed against him, completely at ease. The young witch had not been thrilled when they had first decided to come here. They had had no real money, no connections, and no prospects for either. Though she was proud of herself for doing some spontaneous and for following her gut instinct to be with the man she loved, she realized that a couple could not live on love alone. They were living on the streets, using their magic to transfigure food, clothes, and shelter when Muggles were not around. Things between them were rough and getting more strained by the day as both of them searched for work. She was beginning to think that she had made the wrong choice. Then Draco asked her to be his wife.

They had been in the middle of Central Park, walking aimlessly when he had suddenly just stopped. At first she had thought they were being attacked, then he fell to his knees. The moment she saw him on the ground, she had lost all feeling in her body. A type of euphoria had enveloped her to the point where when she said yes, she could barely form the single syllable word. The joy she felt made her lose sight of their short comings, until the Howler came.

Draco's family had disowned him immediately following his decision to marry Hermione. They had cut off all funds and had informed him that he was no longer considered a Pureblood. Much to the relief of the Grangers, that was where it ended. Hermione knew that it was possible for Lucius to take his wrath further, most likely to the point where someone would get hurt, so she had asked Alastor Moody for assistance. Neither she nor Draco had heard a thing since Mad-Eye had agreed to keep a watchful eye on the Malfoy Manor.

New York was not the type of life she had envisioned for herself, but six months after their arrival every thing had fallen into place. Draco had taken a job at a business firm that dealt with both Muggle and Wizarding customers. He was enjoying his work because it allowed him to see the differences between the two groups. Even now, four months after he had taken the position he would come home with an astonished look on his face and ask her something as silly as "Why do women have so many ways of removing facial hair?"

Hermione had turned down the position from the Ministry. She had opted to start her own line of work. She had leased a humble space on the upper west side, where she taught young wizards and witches about Muggles and how to appropriately interact with them. Most of her students were not attendees of Hogwarts. In fact most of them were not privy to a solid wizarding education; therefore she had begun interviewing other Muggle-born witches and wizards so she could expand her school's offerings.

"You never did answer my question," Draco murmured in her ear, as Hermione began unpacking the multitude of bags she had brought in.

"I wouldn't have come back empty-handed," she mused out loud.

They were having a celebratory dinner and had invited Harry, the Weasley clan, her parents, and a few Slytherins. Surprisingly a couple of Draco's old mates had turned a new cheek. Crabbe and Goyle were not among the crowd, but Bletchley and Flint were. Flint was even bringing a date, the old Gryffindor's Chaser, Katie Bell. As it were, Draco and Hermione's relationship was not that abstract. It appeared that since the war was over many new alliances were forming.

"You know that everyone is arriving in less than two hours," Draco scuffed.

Hermione smiled, knowingly. "Yes dear."

"You haven't started the food yet."

"True."

"You haven't showered yet."

"I know."

"Do you want me to help?" he asked.

Hermione took her wand out of her back jean's pocket. "I think I've got everything under control."

Draco cocked an eyebrow. "I thought you said we shouldn't use magic in the house, now that we are living near Muggles."

Hermione grinned. "Sometimes rules need to be broken. After all, they are more like guidelines anyway."

"Ok, who are you and what have you done to my fiancée?"

Hermione tucked her wand away with a devious smirk. In one swift motion she had ripped off Draco's towel. "Hermione Granger, bookworm extraordinaire is gone for the moment."

The young Malfoy smiled. "Well in that case, why are you still dressed? Don't you need to be naked in order to properly shower?"

"Hmmm…I believe you are right."

Two hours and one round of juicy intercourse later, Hermione was serving dinner to her guests. Draco had kept everyone entertained while she had gotten dressed. Thankfully no one had noticed her jelly legs as she had welcomed them into her home. Harry and Ginny had been the first to arrive, followed by Marcus and Katie. Things between Harry and Marcus had been a little tense at first, due to some unfinished Quidditch business but after Katie and Ginny had started their own Quidditch discussion the tension dispersed. Now the four were joking as if they had been friend their entire lives.

Fred and George were constantly on either side of Bletchley, also regaling tales of past games. Ron had brought along Luna Lovegood, an interesting pick, but Hermione had always found her to be polite if not a bit strange. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley remarked on the size of the loft and the type of neighborhood it was. Mr. Weasley was repeatedly questioning Draco on what he had learned about "the other side" aka the Muggles. Her parents had arrived right after the Weasleys, gushing over Draco as they always did now. Fleur and Bill had been the last to come only slightly later than Percy, who had arrived stag. Charlie had not been in attendance due to some trouble in Romania.

Everyone took their seats at the table, except for Draco, who remained standing, a glass of wine in his hand. "As you all know, Hermione and I are getting married next summer. Despite the ridicule of my father, we feel that our relationship is accepted and I am toasting to many more. To Katie and Marcus, our kindred, my dearest hopes for a bright and wonderful future. To Ron and Luna, may all your quirks be loved and appreciated. To Fleur and Bill, we understand the differences in your worlds. United you are strong and your love is worth the fight. To Arthur and Molly, you have a long standing tradition of joy and love, cherish it always. To the Grangers, I thank you for letting me have your daughter and I hope we will be as happy as you. And finally to Harry and Ginny-,"

"Draco, if you don't mind, I'd like to finish the toast," Harry announced, standing up. Draco nodded and took his seat, slipping his hand around Hermione's.

"What's going on?" she whispered.

"Shhh, just wait."

Harry cleared his throat. "Ginny, I have loved you for a long time and this relationship has made me so happy. I have always wanted a family but in order to make that a reality I need to ask you something." Harry fell to one knee. Ginny gasped. "Ginerva Weasley, will you marry me?"

"Yes."

Screams and cheers went up through the entire loft. Hermione sat back with Draco, watching her friends…her family. Sheer joy was pulsating through her. She was getting married. Her best friends were getting married. Her parents were happy. Her friends accepted her relationship with the Slytherin bad boy and for once she wasn't worried about the future. Everything was as it should be.

And all thanks to the firewhiskey.


End file.
